Operation Patria
by spiritsandstars
Summary: (Modern AU oneshot) Les Amis try to play matchmaker with their fearless leader and the one girl who could be too much for him - with unpredictable results. It's going to take their best effort to pull the two of them together. [É/E]


**Operation Patria**

**(prompt "les amis playing matchmaker" by petitsuisse; author's note: a little bit longer than the usual because- well, it was way too fun writing it! ModernAU. Hope you like it!)**

___First rule of operation patria: you don't talk about operation patria._

___It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single revolutionary in possess of good looks must be in wanting of a smoking hot girl_

"Courfeyrac, what on Earth are you doing? Writing? That's unusual." asked Jehan, leaning closer to the paper his friend had been scribbling on for almost ten minutes.

"Looking for slogans for our little social experiment, JP."

"Am I missing something? Our little _what?" _Jehan's blond eyebrows furrowed.

"Our social experiment. And no, you're not missing anything, because I haven't started talking yet. There's still something that has to be arranged..." Courfeyrac's eyes ran across the room of the pub.

There he was. One of his best friends. The leader to his center. Enjolras. Victimizing an innocent young lady, shaking a couple of flyers in his hands.

And Courfeyrac's heart, who loved all women alike and found them better than men most of the times, couldn't bear it. It wasn't the first time, but it _had _to be the last.

Because he perfectly knew that _any _girl would have thought his friend handsome, but he also knew that _any _girl, after an _exciting_ ten minutes of conversation about the miners' condition in Chile, was going to roll away into the night.

"Get the others. We're leaving." stated Courfeyrac, with a smirk Prouvaire knew only meant trouble. "And when I said others, I meant everyone but Enjolras."

"What... ?" Jehan's attention had been caught by a girl sitting a couple of tables from theirs.

"Your questions will be answered at an appropriate time." Courfeyrac got up, joining his hands together.

"But I was about to..." Jehan's protest was useless.

"You were never going to introduce yourself anyway, I'm just making things quicker. Up, up! Grantaire! Stop flirting with that bottle of bourbon. Joly, that girl is from my Economics class and didn't stop sneezing this morning, hope you don't want to get a cold, they say it's pretty contagious..."

Joly's face turned green, as Grantaire gave Courfeyrac a puzzled look.

"Bahorel, you've punched more people this week than I've done in a year, Feuilly, no one cares about the latest news in Polish music, Bousset, you don't want to curse that girl with your bad luck, huh? And for the love of God, 'Ferre, stop quoting Nietzsche, my ears are bleeding."

Courfeyrac took a deep breath. One hundred words a minute was enough.

"Outside, gentlemen. I'll show you the reason for such distress."

His timing was perfect. Enjolras was talking to Marius, and as much as he loved a good, old-fashioned debate, he had more important things to do. Actually, only one thing.

"Care to enlighten me?" Combeferre reached his friend, shaking his head.

"You people really can't wait, can you? Alright, alright. I'll enlighten you more than all those light guys put together."

"The light guys? What does that even mean?"

"You're the one majoring in Philosophy 'Ferre, you tell me!"

* * *

As the boys had settled down in Courfeyrac's apartment and a couple of bottles had been pulled out, he started to speak in a theatrical manner.

"Now, gentlemen. I've gathered you all here for a matter of the utmost importance. For we are all friends, right? And what do friends do, but help each other in the moments of despair when..."

"Cut the Prouvaire out and stick to the point. I was this close to get Cynthia in my pants." replied sharply Grantaire, eyeing the bottle on the table.

"Grantaire, you were this close to get a Cosmopolitan in your face. Now listen up, because there is something we have to do. I'm sticking to the biggest rule of friendship here."

"Can't you just tell us what it is?" sighed Combeferre, reaching for the corkscrew.

"You are the worst crowd I've ever had the misfortune to speak to. But anyway, here we go. I say we all join forces and help what we know as - wait for it - the biggest charity case in the history of relationships."

"You're not talking about... " Joly's voice came out as a puff of smoke, after lighting his cigarette.

"Yes, I am." Courfeyrac's smile widened. "For the sake of friendship, humanity and, last but not least, fun, we are going to give Enjolras a reason to look past his precious ideas."

The room burst into laughter.

"A barricade would be easier to build, Courfeyrac." said Grantaire, almost spilling wine all over the carpet.

"Ah! Rome wasn't built in a day, I'm perfeclty aware of that. But let's just say we find the girl, convince her to go on a date with our fearless leader and - boom! Fireworks."

Combeferre was still laughing. "Overlooking the fact that our fearless leader doesn't care, do you really want to torture a poor girl like that?"

"Even my bad luck couldn't make this worse." everybody nodded at Bousset's statement.

"I'm starting to feel an emotional connection with Enjolras. I finally understand why he calls us idiots on daily basis." Courfeyrac turned to the board with a marker in his hand. "His birthday is coming up next week. It's the least we can do. And now, gentlemen, before anything else... I need a name."

Silence fell between the circle of friends, who looked at each other puzzled. What if Courfeyrac was right. What if Enjolras actually needed to get a taste of the real world, once in a while. After a few minutes, the Medicine student spoke up.

"He's going to kill us. But it's going to be fun watching it." Joly's grin reached his cheeks.

Grantaire raised his hands. His list was the longest one. "Jeaneen, in my Art class. Nice legs."

"No way. Anna. She's smart, well-cultured, and takes my History class. Enjolras won't care about a doll with no brains, let's be serious." added Combeferre, staring at the black board.

"Do you guys know Elise, the one that works at the local bookstore?"

It took the group half an hour to go through a list of names that seemed appropriate for Enjolras, without reaching an agreement. They were about to give up, when Courfeyrac was reminded of someone he had been introduced to a couple of days earlier.

"What about Éponine?" he suggested, scribbling the name on the board.

"Épo-who?"

"Marius's friend, dumbo."

Grantaire's eyes widened. "You mean great rack with big eyes, right? The one that follows Marius around everywhere?"

"Precisely. Marius introduced us a couple of days ago. She's pretty, no doubt, but she's also... Peculiar. I don't know how to describe her. She has this sort of street charm." Courfeyrac laughed.

"Please. If there's any girl who's bound to slap Enjolras right after meeting him, it's her." Combeferre rolled his eyes. "She's a little bit too much for him, probably."

"When was too much ever a problem, for Enjolras? Besides, she looks nice. And won't refuse a free dinner, if asked." Courfeyrac was convinced, for better or for worse.

"Why not? Maybe she will do the trick. She seems... Well, she seems to know her way around." Bousset agreed.

"Éponine it is, then. I'm quite curious to see just how he will pull it off, this time." Joly took another glass of wine.

"Now, before starting, we need to think of a name for all this. We can't risk talking about it in public and having Enjolras find out. I would suggest... _Operation Patria. _It looks like a mix between Ocean's Eleven and James Bond. It's perfect. And with a little bit of luck, he will indeed find his Patria."

Prouvaire laughed, understanding what Courfeyrac's papers were about.

"And naturally, we must arrange the details perfectly. The place, the wine, the music, the flowers... " he had begun writing on the board again.

"The place's on me. Well, on Musichetta, actually. But she knows the best places in Paris, and will help for sure." Joly smiled.

"I, for one, will think about the decorations. For you all think that love springs out of nowhere, but you couldn't be more wrong. Love is born in an atmosphere of pure magic and delight." Prouvaire started taking notes on one of his various notebooks.

"There's no way I'm letting any of you pick the wine." Grantaire gave a haughty look to all his friends. "The last thing we want is Enjolras drunk on bad alcohol whispering nonsense to a girl."

"I will get the music. If that doesn't make them sway, nothing else will. " Feuilly quickly browsed through his iPod.

"I suppose that I will have to take the guy out of his cave. Fair enough, he's my roomate. Even if lying will be necessary – but then again, Kant justifies lies for higher purposes." Combeferre quoted his favorite philosophers even when talking about match making.

"I am proud of all you. And me - well, I will get the girl." Courfeyrac looked at his friends proudly, as they came up with various ideas.

"There's still one little thing, though." said Bahorel, shaking his head. "They don't even know each other. How are they supposed to _want _each other?"

Joly laughed cheerfully, quoting one of his favorite movies.

"_I know. Take two, mix them together and let them stew. It never fails.  
_

* * *

Courfeyrac had carefully observed Éponine's habits, finding out that the best moment to approach her was just as she finished her Psychology class.

_Showtime, _he whispered to himself, as he patted her on the shoulder.

"Éponine! What a surprise to see you here. I didn't know you took Psychology."

The girl turned to see who it was, and smiled.

"Surprise doesn't look like that, Courfeyrac." His reputation of womanizer was well known across campus.

"Forgive me for being such a fool to think you would fall for something like that. It's probably the reason why I am here that makes me so nervous and predictable."

She walked in front of him, laughing. "What brings you here?"

"You, Mademoiselle, have bewitched one of my friends, and I would be glad to have him back. One day, he's all proud and solemn, and the next, after seeing you... Shattered to pieces."

She gave him a puzzled expression, still not sure what he was going on about. _One of his friends? Could it be... ? Oh, don't be stupid. He's perfectly happy with her, just like he said this morning._

"Oh, I'm sorry. But I didn't do anything, to be honest." she stopped, and looked at her friend in the eye.

"You're belittling yourself. He has fallen under your charm, and there's nothing that can save him... Except maybe joining him for his birthday, next week. To be alone, of all days, would be dreadful. He's too shy to ask you himself, and that's why I am here. Not only asking. _Begging_ you to consider him worthy of your time. " He dramatically took Éponine's hand and kissed it.

She let out a small laugh, shaking her head. "He must be really desperate to ask me, huh?"

"Nonsense. Wishing for a lovely girl like you to look at him, that's only honorable. And praying to have a chance, quite brave."

"And who is this mythical man?" she couldn't stop laughing.

"Only someone courageous as Enjolras could dream of getting to your heart."

Her smile froze on her lips. Enjolras? _Sir Boast-A-Lot, Mr._ _Big Words, Holier-Than-Thou Enjolras?_ Éponine knew him from afar, much like everybody else – but for some reason, she still had found time to think about names for him.

"I thought he hated women."

"And he does, but of course he can't run away from your beauty. What do you say, then?" Courfeyrac got on his knees. "Will you let me come back victorious with the promise to see him?"

As she was torn between two opposite answers, she realized that she had nothing to lose – and that for the first time, someone had actually been looking at her. Stealing glances maybe, just like she used to. Besides, she didn't want people to stare at her and Courfeyrac for too long.

"I suppose I could do it."

He didn't contain his excitement, jumping on his feet and hugging her.

"That's marvelous, Éponine! I will- he will- oh, for God's sake, we will let you know the details."

"At one condition. Can I punch you in the face if I regret it?" she pulled away from his hug, still half smiling.

"That's a deal, Mademoiselle."

* * *

Combeferre took a deep breath, as he prepared to interrupt Enjolras from his books.

"So, have you heard... ?"

"Make it quick, 'Ferre. I have an essay due tomorrow, and no intention to lower my grades."

He laughed, pouring coffee for the both of them.

"Excuse me for remembering you that your birthday is coming up and that you're turning 23, not 56. How unconsiderate of me."

"Sorry. It's just that I need to concentrate. And you should know that, of all people. Besides, I never was a birthday person. No need to plan a party. The only gift I ask for is a little bit more dedication and work from all of you."

"Sorry." he handed the cup to his friend. "We already have reservations, and don't you dare asking me to cancel them. Plus, it's not about us. It's about the unlucky woman who has the misfortune of liking you."

Enjolras raised his head at an alarming speed. "What- what?"

"Precisely. You don't even see her, when all she does is look at you and sigh. How could a man made of marble love me, she says. She came to me this morning, pleading for the possibility to see you. I wasn't supposed to tell you, but I find it childish. What's the harm in telling you that Éponine Thénardier is head over heels with you?"

"Éponine... ?" Enjolras stared at his friend, his cheeks flushed. "She- she's what?"

"Don't you see that the only reason she follows Marius everywhere is because she's praying for you to understand how she feels about you? Coming to every meeting not for your words, but only for you. You're a desperate case, my friend."

"This- this is ridiculous. I'm sure she has other things- other men on her mind. She's... "

_Here we go, _Combeferre chuckled, sipping his coffee.

"She has only one man on her mind, and that man is someone who isn't even kind enough to let her have one night with him. Courfeyrac is in rage, you know. How can I pretty girl like her fall for someone like you and not him."

Enjolras sighed. A girl. Well, that was unusual. If Combeferre wasn't lying – and he trusted his friend not to do so – he had to face that possibility. Even when all he wanted to was run away. Mostly because he had indeed seen Éponine Thénardier walking around their tables, with her expression lost in some far away land. She belonged to another world, or at least, that's how he had always seen her.

"I- I don't know what to say. You're all probably mistaken."

"So you'd rather sit alone surrounded with newspapers on your birthday, rather than dancing with a beautiful girl? A funny, witty girl like her? You may be our leader, but sometimes... Well, you look like our five year old little brother, playing with his toys."

"Combeferre!" Enjolras shrug his shoulders. The only battle he couldn't win was the one his own friends had teamed up against him. He never thought he would have seen that day.

"Just one night, Enjolras. Even you can do it."

"Where should I meet her, anyway? Am I supposed to run around town to find her? Is that the current fashion with dates?"

_Checkmate, _thought Combeferre, putting the cup in the sink.

"Oh, I know everything. Trust me. You can go back to your work. I'll tell you later."

* * *

"Fantastic, Joly." Courfeyrac looked around the bank of the Seine, worried. "A boat. She'll throw him overboard at the first occasion – not that you can blame her, of course."

"It's the perfect place. It's romantic as it gets, there's no way we can be around to make things look suspicious. Musichetta and I had dinner here last month, and I didn't get food poisoning. A huge bonus."

"I'll give you that, it's extremely thoughtful. Prouvaire, are you done yet?" he screamed at his friend, who was currently adjusting the lights on the table reserved for Enjolras and Éponine.

"We're perfectly in time, Courfeyrac." he said, getting off the boat. "Just wait til they see it. The moonlight, the river, Paris... Oh, they'll declare their undying love for each other on it, I'm sure. I can feel it." Nobody loved Paris just as much as Jehan.

"And if the moonlight doesn't do, well... " Grantaire took out a flask from his left pocket. "My wine can bring the dead back to life. Which is what will happen to Enjolras's heart."

Courfeyrac took the flask from Grantaire, his hands shaking. "Feuilly, how's the music? Please tell me it's not Polish."

"Relax. It's not Polish, it's exactly the opposite. He will grab her waist in no time, and he won't even be surprised by his sudden bravado. A collection of Broadway's finest and England's best pop music."

"Still, no one's here yet. What if he doesn't show up? What if she doesn't show up?"

"You sure you weren't a fairy godmother in one of your past lives, Courfeyrac?" Grantaire laughed. "Combeferre is personally taking him here, and Marius is in charge of the girl. They'll both come."

"Which is why we should go, quickly. I can see Marius from here." Joly waved his hand, as the friends disappeared into the night.

"This is weird, isn't it?" Éponine was walking next to Marius, as she descended the stairs to the bank. "I never thought Enjolras was that kind of person." she stopped talking the moment when she realized where the date would have taken place. No one had ever took her on the Seine before, especially not a young man with erratic eyes, like Enjolras. "It's... "

"Perfect." Marius finished the sentence for her, smiling. "He's the best man I know, 'Ponine. You're in good hands." And he meant it, for Marius wanted Éponine to find someone who cared for her just like he did for Cosette. _If it can't be me, I really hope it's him, _he thought. "Oh, here they are." Marius and Combeferre exchanged a pleased look.

"Now remember, Enjolras. Behave. And if she punches you, she has every right." he whispered to his friend.

"Yes, mother." Enjolras was a little bit more relaxed, as his roomate had insisted on a toast before leaving the house.

"I'm going with 'Ferre." said Marius to Éponine, kissing her cheek. "Have a nice night. I'll see you around."

Éponine smiled, noticing that her legs were trembling as she saw Enjolras getting nearer.

_It's just one night, _she said to herself, while Marius reached Combeferre.

"It this works, Marius, I'm not reading Diderot for a month." the two friends laughed, as they headed to the Musain.

"Hello, Enjolras." she said, shaking his hand. "I think it's our first proper introduction." she smiled friendly.

"Hi, Éponine. " He lowered his eyes. She looked dazzling, as usual. But this time, she knew it. "Nice- nice to see you. Shall we... ?"

"Of course. I don't want to spend the whole night on this bank."

_Her laugh sounds like the rain. And she's just a plain mystery to me, _he found himself thinking, as she gracefully waltzed in the boat. They didn't have any problems finding their table, for Prouvaire's illuminations made it easy recognizable. And they didn't ask each other any questions about it, because they didn't want to hear the answers.

Before they could sit down, she rushed to gaze into the river.

"It's beautiful. I always wondered what if felt like to float. I imagine it's the same feeling you get when you're in love."

_How would I know, _he asked himself, cracking a smile for her child like admiration.

"It reminds me of Venice, you know? The whole city is eternally floating." he said, standing next to her. "Or sinking. Depends on the way you look at it."

"Well that's just the same with love, isn't it? A balance between floating and sinking."

"Are you always like this?" he looked at her in her deep eyes. "Talking to yourself and hiding your sparkle?"

"Sorry, what?" she didn't look at him. The reflection of the lights in the river was enough for her.

"I asked you why you're hiding your sparkle, when you're clearly... Better." For once, it wasn't Enjolras's lack of manners with ladies, and the fact that he hadn't memorized any of Courfeyrac's famous one-liners. This time, not even Prouvaire could have done Éponine justice.

He caught her off guard. "I- I don't think so. I'm not... I'm not what you said. And if I were... Well, you're the first one ever. I suppose- I suppose I always like to have an escape at hand."

He nodded, strangely agreeing with her. He perfectly knew what she meant – just because she kept it quiet, it didn't the two of them weren't alike. Dreaming of the perfect someday, who always seemed out of reach. And everyday lost its meaning, as it was simply another day _closer. _

Enjolras took the chair out for her, and for a split second he could have sworn he had seen the bottle on the table at Grantaire's house.

"Look at the lights." her eyes were looking up in excitement. "They're- oh, I've never been anywhere like this in my entire life. Thank you." she reached for his free hand and squeezed it. "Thank you."

"I've- well." he was too ashamed to admit that he didn't have anything to do with the lights. But probably she wasn't referring to that – it must have been her idea, after all. "Thank you for being here."

"I feel incredibly stupid. And embarassed." she drank her wine, shaking her head. "I was so busy in the land of might-have-beens that I've never noticed what was next to me the whole time."

He raised his eyebrow, while the words didn't come out of his mouth. It was an evening of first times for the both of them. They had never been anywhere near reality, but kept themselves to their dreams, shaping them in each way they liked.

_It was the first time they understood that some things aren't supposed to be shaped, but accepted for what they are._

"It's nothing, Éponine. I'm- I'm thick as a brick, that's what my friends say. But... here we are. And I hope I'm not boring you."

"You can't bore me, Enjolras. For the simple fact that you have worlds inside you that most people can't dream of."

He dropped his jaw. Literally. _How do you that. Why is it that the moment I finally think I've gotten you, you turn out to be something completely different._

"You sure you aren't Prouvaire's sister? You should write flyers for me, sometimes."

"Or maybe I should write about you." she blushed, biting her lower lip. "I'm sorry. I don't make much sense when I'm honest."

"You're honest, and true. And I appreciate it very much."

She turned her head, without answering. "On this boat, you can almost believe that Paris is at your feet."

_It is, for you, _he wanted to say. His cheeks probably spoke for him.

They ate almost in silence, bost lost in the landscape unveiling before their eyes. Enjolras had always avoided dates, fearing that he would have had nothing to say to a woman. But with Éponine silence felt more poignant than all of the poets he had read put together.

He remembered Courfeyrac saying that he would have never looked at a woman with the same wonder and passion he put in speeches. It probably was true. But it didn't matter, because Éponine's eyes were filled with the same wonder, and realized that it was the only thing he had ever wanted.

As they had finished eating, music started spreading across the deck, and various couples got up to dance. He looked at her puzzled, for he recognized Feuilly's favorite songs among others.

"Let's dance." she said, in a tone that didn't require any answers.

"I'm not good at dancing, I've got two left feet- " he didn't even finish his sentence, as she grabbed his arm.

"Oh, I'm sure you will do fine. Look at all of those people. They're all pretending they know how to do it, but they're just faking it. Please... ? Simply a waltz, as Madame Piaf would say."

"You like Édith Piaf? I thought that you weren't like the other girls." he grinned.

"I'm French, it's in my blood. What's your excuse?" she laughed. "Oh, I know this song. It's called _Seven Wonders." _she started humming, softly. "_But all 'em seven wonders, well, they can't compare to you... "_

_And you even know how to sing. Stop it. Stop it immediately. Stop it before I make a complete fool out of myself –_ he found her head on his chest. And it felt like it belonged there.

"Your heart is racing, Enjolras." she laughed, her eyes finally meeting his. "Is there something you want to tell me, before the song is over?"

"You know... " his hand was dangerously close to her waist. "I- I never danced with anyone, before. It's- it's not really my area. Courfeyrac would probably kill me if he saw me now."

"You want to stop? Besides, I have to give you your birthday gift. It's in my purse. Hope you like it." she ran back to the table, and he felt only air in his hands. _Stop disappearing, _he cursed.

"I had almost forgotten it was my birthday." he laughed, smiling.

"You shouldn't have. Here." she handed a small box to him. He unfolded the package, finding an old, used book in his hands. "It's a diary. I found it at my favorite bookstore. It belonged to a young boy who lived during the revolts of June, 1832. There are lots of pages about how to build barricades and get furniture – but for some reason, he reminded me of you. You should thank him. I always thought you were only made of words, but- he made me see you're real."

"Wow." he started flipping through the pages. "It's- it's probably the best gift I've ever received. It's- well, I don't know how to thank you." _And you know me like we've met a lifetime ago, _he thought smiling. _And maybe he knew a girl like you, always running away. And maybe he will teach me how to make you stop._

She kissed him on the cheek, playfully. "Happy birthday, Enjolras."

His fingers ran to the point where her lips had touched him, and found hers. He felt her wrist.

"She dies in the end, though." Éponine felt like she was touching fire with her bare hands. "The girl he loves, I mean. He tries, but he can't save her. She dies on his barricade. And- I don't know what happens to him. The last pages are blank."

"So, she's the reason he keeps fighting for, then." He smiled. His hand kept on looking for hers, and kissed it. It smelt like roses, probably her hand cream. There wasn't a single thing about Éponine that wasn't beautiful. "It's- it's strange that you found it. Diaries aren't meant to be read by others, right? It's- it's a beautiful twist of fate."

She got closer to him, her hand stroking his cheek, and whispered in his ear.

_"Maybe I found it so we can rewrite the story."_


End file.
